


But it isn’t wings or hooks

by summerstorm



Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Introspection, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 21:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12307872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerstorm/pseuds/summerstorm
Summary: Liv wanted to save lives. She’s not — doing that, so much, here. It’s hard to convince herself that working as a medical examiner so she doesn’t go off to cannibalize the population's skulls is the same as genuinely working hard to save their lives. But her skill set fit, and she needed something stable to hold onto while she figured out how to — be this. How to wake up every day, how to shake off the nightmares, how to get out of bed and plow through a routine that lets people know she’s doing okay even if things are different.How to avoid the questions everyone keeps asking.





	But it isn’t wings or hooks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chasing_givenchy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasing_givenchy/gifts).



> Last-minute NYR so I can sign up for Yuletide. I haven't written a word of fiction in years, so please forgive my rustiness. Thank you to tuesday for looking this over in record time and helping me make sense.
> 
> Title from Bruce Covey's Body & Isn't, because you can take a girl away from fanfic but when she comes back she will do everything exactly the same way she used to.

Liv is examining a very dead liver when she hears someone walk in.

"Ugh. Are you sure this is better for you than the hospital?" Peyton says, heels click-clicking on the few steps leading down to the morgue.

Liv looks up and throws a 'what can you do' face to Ravi before turning around. He busies himself sterilizing scalpels while Peyton drops her bag on the table by the door and drops her butt on the chair beside it. Behind Liv, Ravi moves even further back into the room, the sound of wheels providing a brief pause for Liv to rummage in her head for an answer.

Liv would thank Ravi for that, except this is really not a conversation she wants to have again. He would be more useful standing in the way, giving her something to do, making up some kind of emergency where Peyton _has to go_ , no discussion, does she really want to feel responsible if Ravi’s distracted and messes up?

Ravi could be distracted by Peyton. Peyton is very distracting. Liv has plenty of evidence to support this claim, both second-hand and… the opposite. What Liv is saying is, this is not a conversation that should be difficult to derail if Ravi really had her back.

Of course, it’s true that Ravi doesn’t know why she doesn’t want to talk about it. She’s only been in the morgue for eight weeks and she’s keeping her mouth shut on the subject of her… condition. She’s pretty sure Ravi’s looked at files from the Lake Washington boat party disaster a few times, but no one in their right mind would jump to the conclusion that she’s a— freaking brain-eater, let alone stick around her after that. Come to work every day when most of the time it’s just the two of them in a room full of dead bodies and dangerous objects, sharp things that could easily pierce human flesh and trigger whatever part of Liv’s brain is moved only by the smell of sweet, flowing vulnerability—

He would have fired her if he knew.

Liv does not want to be fired. Fuck knows what else is out there for a zombie. Killing people? Actually killing people for their brains? Sure, if they're zombies _with no conscience_. Liv swore an oath. And yeah, that was a whole lifetime ago if you consider she’s undead, but these things have meaning. They’re not to be taken lightly. If you don’t actually believe what you’re swearing to do — Liv knows some doctors don’t; she both hopes and doesn’t that it comes back to bite them — then what is the point of being a doctor in the first place?

She wanted to save lives. She’s not — doing that, so much, here. It’s hard to convince herself that working as a medical examiner so she doesn’t go off to cannibalize the population's skulls is the same as genuinely working hard to save their lives. But her skill set fit, and she needed something stable to hold onto while she figured out how to — be this. How to wake up every day, how to shake off the nightmares, how to get out of bed and plow through a routine that lets people know she’s doing okay even if things are different.

How to avoid the questions everyone keeps asking.

"I guess it’s quieter," Peyton adds, bored of waiting for an answer. Liv probably shouldn’t give her time to fill in the blanks, but at least this time it seems safe. Ish. "Did you really hate socializing that much? I know you’re plenty comfortable saying no when you want to stay home, Liv."

"That’s not why—"

"So forgive me if I don’t buy this whole hiding from the world shit."

Liv bites her lip, attempts a smile that feels so fake it makes Peyton look guilty, eyes hooded and shoulders dropping like she’s overstepped.

She hasn’t. She’s Liv's best friend. Liv would give her life for Peyton, would have even before her life became practically meaningless. Anything Peyton says feels like — like a dagger, running jagged along Liv’s skin and raising her long-healed scratch marks. Pushing her closer to showing those scars to Peyton and telling her everything she’s bottled up.

And that’s a definite no-go.

"You don’t have to buy anything, Peyton. I just needed a change. You don’t need to worry about me."

Peyton tilts her head and raises her eyebrows, arms crossed over her stomach. She still looks a little deflated, her shoulders not held straight enough for this to be her lawyer pose, which is at least something. Maybe she’s giving up. That would be helpful, if it’s on the subject and not on Liv herself.

Then again, everyone would be better off if they did give up on Liv, too, but that’s not something Liv is ready to wish for.

Peyton sighs. Liv wants to hug her, but she knows what her tear ducts do when she gets close to that these days. She’s at work and she needs to maintain the pretense that she’s mostly okay. Peyton can’t help her, and if Peyton can’t help, she doesn’t need to know exactly how bad it is. She doesn’t need to carry it with her. And Liv doesn’t need to worry that Peyton will run if she ever finds out.

It’s a precarious situation, and Liv is well aware she’s not letting Peyton decide, but the idea of losing her is so terrifying it paralyzes Liv. She knows herself well enough to know she could figure out how to make that happen, how to make them give up on her if it was the only way to go forward, the only way for Major and Peyton and her mom and brother to move on.

But she can’t help it. She had a plan, and her plan is gone. She had a career, and that’s derailed for good. She had a fiancé, and her fiancé is — not her fiancé anymore, this incredible guy who's stuck by her even after she threw nearly a decade of love in the trash. She had a support system, and now she’s got no one she can tell her secrets.

Sometimes her recurring nightmares take a leap into a future where she has to let go of everyone that matters, give them up entirely. But right now, loving them is all that keeps her from never getting out of bed.

"Look." Peyton stands up and grabs her bag. "I’m probably working late tonight. I just wanted to check in. See how the morgue and its employees were doing." She glances over Liv’s shoulder. "Hi, Ravi."

Ravi looks up and gives a little awkward wave. Liv smiles despite herself.

"I appreciate that, but I really am okay." The lie doesn’t even stick in her throat. She’s getting better at this. "I’ll see you at home, all right?"

Peyton bites her lip. "Yeah." She turns on her heels and is a good way into the hallway when she shouts back, "Have fun with the dead guys!" because Peyton’s never been good at letting Liv stay sad.

Liv never was, either. She used to talk things out fully, never leave people guessing at the problem and never let them wonder where they stood with her after a fight. Not Peyton, not Major — not even Evan, once he was old enough to admit fault and she was old enough to tell when a grudge was worth holding.

But she’s getting better at that too.


End file.
